Castiel is a Heartbreaker
by Captain Swan 666
Summary: Thoughts & conversations with Team Free Will during season 7. There is both Megstiel and Destiel. Actually, a lot of this is just those two obsessing over Castiel, because how could anyone not obsess over heaven's most adorable angel? If anyone likes my Destiel fan theories, I might do a story about one in the future. This is my first fanfiction ever, so I hope people like it :)
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Well, I guess this is it…I really hope to never see you guys again," Charlie said as she carried her suitcase out the door to her apartment's lobby.

"Likewise, I guess…Not that you're not great, but you know, I hope you can…I don't know…Have a life now," Dean told her, as he handed her the box filled with Star Wars, Harry Potter, and Lord of the Rings bobble heads he had carried down the steps.

"Wait, at least let us give you a ride to the airport," Sam interjected.

"Sure, thanks," Charlie sounded grateful as she heaved the suitcase into the trunk of the stolen car, which made Dean think longingly of his baby, the Impala. She raised her eyebrows briefly at the red devil's trap painted on the inside of the hatch, and the armory of guns, salt, stakes, and holy water strewn throughout the trunk. She said nothing.

Charlie climbed into the backseat, tossing her iPod into the seat next to her in case she got bored. As she sat down, she fiddled with the device even though it was off, and ran her fingers through her long, red hair. She was naturally a nervous type, but of course now she was especially uneasy. She felt certain that there was crap load about Sam and Dean Winchester that even Frank's files couldn't tell her.

Sam climbed into the passenger's seat. His wavy, bronze hair brushed the roof, and he felt cramped. Of course, he always felt cramped in small spaces like cars, he was too tall to fit anywhere properly, but he was certain that the Impala had been more comfortable than this. Had he mentioned it, Dean could have explained that this was because he had specifically set up the seats in his car to fit the brother's bodies, and allow them to be comfortable.

There were lots of little things like that which Dean had once done, but lately he had been distracted. It was natural, after all, leviathans were vying for world control, his adoptive father figure was slowly leaning towards becoming a vengeful spirit, and of course there was a certain trench coat wearing angel who had recently returned after literally exploding for the third time since Dean had met him, to make Dean's already overcomplicated life all that much more confusing. Not to mention a despicable, angel-stealing, demon with a fake medical degree and a thing for pizza men. Yeah, he had a lot to stress over, and the way things had gone in 'Richard Roman Enterprises,' certainly didn't help.

Dean suppressed a shudder as he considered what the chunk of red clay they had acquired out the ordeal could mean. He ran his fingers through his sandy hair, and squinted as he looked into the clouds for a few moments, just pondering about the ominous red dirt…He moved to his usual spot as the driver. It had been months, but driving a car other than the Impala, his baby, still felt somehow…dirty. The motor rumbled to life, and no, it didn't purr the way that Dean's baby did. Dean headed away from the apartment complex that was Charlie Bradbury's old home, a place she would likely never be able to see again. They drove in silence for a few moments as Dean pulled onto the on ramp.

"So, Dean…Can I just compliment you on your flirting skills?" Charlie asked, trying to make conversation as they zoomed down the highway. Dean scoffed.

"What? You think I've been trying to hit on y-" he shook his head, narrowing his eyes a little as he tried to figure out how Charlie could have gotten the wrong idea. "I mean…I'm sorry, what? Look, I get that you're into chicks."

"Right…I just meant that you have game. I mean, even under all the pressure of breaking into Dick Roman's office, you still knew exactly what to say to that security guard. Seriously, I'm not used to hitting on guys. If it wasn't for that blue tooth, I might have totally frozen up. Of course, lines like 'stop laughing Sam,' and 'stop talking Charlie,' weren't exactly the best, but still-" Sam cut her off with a laugh.

"Whoa!" Dean interrupted before Sam could enjoy this too much. "You think I'm g-" he couldn't even say it, he was too taken aback. "I mean…me? Me?!" he got a look at Charlie's raised eyebrows, and was quick to cover up after himself. "Not that there's anything wrong with being, you know, into that, but I just….Do I give off that vibe?"

At this point, Sam could no longer contain himself. He burst into somewhat hysterical laughter. Charlie was squeezing her lips together, trying hard not to laugh. She met Sam's eyes in the mirror, and could no longer keep back a giggle.

"I mean…You're not?" Charlie asked. She was smiling, but unfortunately, Dean could tell that it was a serious question.

"What? No! I like chicks!"

"Are you sure?" Charlie asked.

"What, are you-? Yes, of course I'm sure! Jesus," Dean sighed. "I hook up with girls all the time. Seriously, we rescue hot chicks for a living!"

"OK, OK, Jeez," Charlie giggled. "Can I ask you something else? And please, don't take this the wrong way, I'm really curious."

"Fine, but it better not have anything else to do with me being gay," he grumbled. There was a pause. "Well, go ahead…"

"Never mind," Charlie said in a small voice.

"Oh for the love of-" he groaned. "Just ask the damn question."

"OK, um, have you ever considered the possibility that you're bi?"

"What? NO!"

"OK, it's just a question," Charlie said. She rolled her eyes, and put in her ear buds, and turned to the song, 'I'm walking on Sunshine.' She turned the volume way up, but not so high that she couldn't hear the brother's conversation.

"Well, you protested that one harder than I thought you would," said Sam, smirking.

"Oh, shut up, bitch," Dean sighed.

"Hey, I'm just saying…They say when you deny something too much, it must be true…Jerk," Sam replied, still grinning.

"What are you trying to say here, exactly, Sammy?" Dean said.

"Maybe…That you might be bi…?" Sam said. Now he was hesitant though. It was something he had wanted to bring up for…Well…Since Dean came back from Hell and met the one who had gripped tight and raised him from perdition, actually. After all, the two of them had never really explained to Sam exactly what they meant when they said they shared a 'profound bond.'

"Wait, are you being serious?" Dean barked. "As in, this isn't a joke anymore?"

"I mean…"

"OK, let me get this straight…Pun possibly intended. You've known me for how long? OH! WAIT! You're whole life. I'm your brother, for God's sake, Sammy. You can't honestly think that-"

"Dean, it's OK if you are," Sam said quickly. He loved teasing his big brother, but he also wanted to make sure that things were absolutely clear.

"Gee, thanks, Sammy," Dean said sarcastically. "What if I'm not? Is that OK? Huh?"

"Of course, I just-"

"You just, what?"

"I'm just wondering how you feel about Castiel being back?" Sam said. There was a moment of utter silence, broken by the soft sound of 'I'm walking on Sunshine' from Charlie's headphones.

"What?" Dean said, almost speechless.

"I mean, I know he isn't completely back, being in a coma and everything, but still…"

"No, what do you mean 'how do I feel about him being back?'" Dean interjected.

"Dean, I know you two shared a-"

"No," Dean interrupted. Sam was surprised at the emotion in his big brother's voice. "Don't you dare say 'profound bond,' Sammy. Don't say it. Not after what he did. He broke that bond when he broke the wall in your head…When he teamed up with Crowley. When he and Meg…When he didn't help me find Lisa and Ben…So, whatever you think about me, keep him and his stupid, lying, profound bond out of this."

"Dean, I didn't mean…Look, I just…I'm sorry." There was another pause. Charlie bit her fingernails anxiously. The brothers seemed to have somewhat forgotten her presence. "Wait, what did you mean about him and Meg?"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Why, Clarence, I never knew you were so flexible," Meg said as she watched Castiel's legs spread all the way across the twister board, and he struggled not to fall down. He chuckled as his knees finally gave in and he collapsed onto the board.

Meg was sitting in the seat reserved for visitors, her feet rested on the table covered in magazines. She was wearing the paisley scrubs that the hospital required her to, but no job was going to take away her style completely, so she still wore leather high heeled boots. Her brown hair fell down around her shoulders loosely, and she was wearing more make-up than her fake job as a nurse really called for. She liked looking pretty, though. Even if it wasn't really her body, Castiel seemed to like it…

"You try," Cas said, smiling at her.

"I don't really do games."

"Please, Meg. Do it for me," he pleaded. He had been acting like the naked man at the rave ever since he woke up a few hours ago…There was something else, though. Crazy Cas had a sort of innocence in his big, blue, puppy-eyes which somehow managed to be both pathetic and sweet. She was almost happy that the past didn't seem to be paining him anymore. Of course it meant nothing good that the only angel who would go to bat for her was lost in Crazy town, but still…When he had remembered everything, he had looked as if his soul was being ripped out, which of course was impossible since he didn't have one to begin with. It was impossible to conceive everything that he must have been feeling, the agony in his eyes was surely only a veil for the real pain. Castiel was a brave soldier; he knew how to mask all emotions, especially any that might reveal weakness.

Of course 'Clarence' had immediately tried to leave when he got his memories back, and realized that Dean had come to 'Emanuel' for help with a problem 'Castiel' had caused. She had wanted with all of her, well, not her heart since she didn't have one, but perhaps with all of her meat-suit's heart, to stop him. It had been Dean who had followed him, though. Meg felt a surge of hatred as she thought of the self-righteous, self-absorbed, hunter. It nauseated Meg the way that Dean had talked to 'Emanuel' about being mad at 'Castiel.'

She even found herself considering the possibility that maybe the reason he had been under a coma the past few weeks was because of the heartless way Dean had just treated him. She had been relieved when he woke up a few hours ago, but also a little disgruntled when soon after waking up he started asking about his friend Dean. She dismissed him. The last thing he needed right away was an angry dick in his face…Maybe even literally as well as metaphorically knowing Dean…

What right did he have to be mad at Castiel? The problem with Dean was that he saw everything in terms of black and white, or good and evil. Reality was so much messier. Of course, Meg wasn't a fan of Crowley any more than Dean was, and she hated the idea of Castiel teaming up with him, but he had really been given no choice. She believed in Lucifer, and was loyal to him, but she understood that Castiel felt differently about his older brother.

He had sacrificed everything to end Lucifer's regime…He had literally exploded…twice…in the fight to save earth from the apocalypse. Meg still thought that the apocalypse would have been for the best, but unlike Dean, she was able to see the situation objectively. She could hardly blame Cas for taking the only possible path to stopping Raphael from letting Lucifer back out of the cage. Besides, Cas made a great God. For one, he was willing to work peacefully with the demons to sort souls into Heaven and Hell. For another thing, he didn't just sit back and watch the earth go to shit, he saw what needed to change, and made an effort to change it. Hearing about all of the blasphemous preachers and other hypocrites and non- believers that Castiel had smited as God had actually been…entertaining. Meg wouldn't have minded the plan at all if it wasn't for Crowley's part in it.

So, no, she hadn't called Dean and Sam to tell them that Castiel was awake from his coma. Yet. She would, she told herself. Soon. It was Dean who had kept the dirty, bloody, trench coat for his 'friend'. It was Dean who had convinced Castiel to go into the hospital and help Sam.

Meg resented all of this more than she liked to admit to herself. It was Dean, it had always been Dean. She knew that as well as she knew that being in the angel's presence was changing her. She was changing into someone she hadn't been since…Maybe since she was human. She believed in having a cause. For a long time, it had been raising Lucifer from the pit. Meeting Castiel had made her falter. He had made he think about a different cause, one that she couldn't have seen herself fighting for before she'd met him. 'Team Free Will.' She despised Dean, of course, but…There were nice aspects to working with the good guys. The animosity between her and Dean was practically pleasant compared to the unveiled hatred demons always seemed to feel towards each other, even when working together. Sam was actually not bad. She sometimes even liked the younger Winchester brother. She supposed Sam was probably the closest thing she had to a friend.

When he had looked at her, not now that he had lost his mind, but before…Before the leviathans had overcome him, when he looked at her…He could see her….Not her pretty vessel, or her sometimes blackened eyes…Being an angel, he truly could see her, in all of the raw pain, and festering wounds that her true form was. When he looked at her with those deep blue eyes…His gaze would be tearing away at the rough edges of her tarnished soul. Maybe it still was, or maybe that was the memory of all of the possibilities the two of them had once had.

When he had first seen her, after shifting Sam's insanity into his own mind, he had shied away. He could see only the monster inside of the human girl whose body had been destroyed, internally at least, so thoroughly that she would die the instant Meg left her. He couldn't see the broken spirit she really was, which he had once seen when he looked at her. She should have been happy about this. After all, she was a good soldier, just like Castiel, even if they were from different worlds. She knew how to mask emotion. She knew how to be strong, and never let anyone see her being weak. So she had hidden the hurt she felt when he shied away.

She remembered how she had explained to him that she was his caretaker of sorts for a-while. He had smiled so innocently than, and if she'd had a heart, it would have broken for him. She had wrapped her arms around him, and told him it was going to be alright. When she had put her arms around the fallen angel, it reminded her of a happier time…The pizza man. Of course, they had been preparing to go into battle then, so it wasn't as if it was all rainbows and unicorns, but nothing with 'Team Free Will' ever was.

She wished that she and Cas had been able to spend more time like that…Wrapped in each other's arms not in comfort, but in pleasure. She missed the feeling, not only of his lips on hers, or her arm reaching beneath his trench coat, but of him….He was good, and pure…She couldn't see his true form, as he could see hers, which was probably for the best since she didn't want to be burned to a scorch, but she could feel him. She could feel the warmth, and sweetness, and strength of being an angel when he pressed against her. It made her feel clean, something she wasn't used to, and normally would have been opposed to. Being near him was amazing enough, but kissing Castiel was the best feeling Meg had ever experienced, and she was several hundred years old.

"Please," he pleaded, looking from her to the twister mat.

"OK, fine, for you, Clarence," Meg sighed, smiling at the broken shell of what had once been the bravest man Meg had ever met. She swung her legs down from the table, and kneeled down to spin the wheel.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

It had been the previous night when Dean hugged Charlie goodbye briefly at the airport. He was going to miss the quirky, nerdy, firecracker of a girl. She had given Sam a quick hug as well before picking up her suitcases, and leaving towards her flight.

After commenting about, and it was impossible to tell if she was kidding or not, how this wasn't the first time she'd had to disappear, she headed off into the crowd. They watched the bobbing red-head for a moment before turning to head back to the stolen car in the parking garage.

Now it was morning, and they were driving steadily towards the hospital where 'Nurse Masters,' was watching over the angel who had recently awoken from a coma. She had called to tell Sam and Dean the news earlier that morning. Dean and Sam had agreed to put on hold figuring out more about the strange stone they had broken out of the red clay the night before. Maybe Meg or Cas would even know something about it, and why it had almost seemed to cause a freak lightening-storm when they broke it open. Maybe Cas would know why he had woken up at roughly the same time that Dean had cracked open the clay….Dean tried not to get his hopes up. It was likely Cas would have called Dean himself if he was in any sort of state that was…well…not insane…There were still several hours before they were even close.

Dean was still silently reveling in the news. He still hadn't forgiven Castiel for the devastation he had caused, or for what the angel had done to Sam, but…He couldn't deny that his heart had skipped several beats when Sam had said those simple words: 'Cas is awake.'

There were so many things he felt when he thought of the man who had once been…his closest friend. That was the best way Dean could think of to describe the profound bond that the two of them shared. It was difficult to think of their bond in terms of words…After all, it went beyond that. They shared, or at least they had once shared, something so much deeper than any friendship, or even romance. Cas had pulled him out of Hell. He had rebelled against Heaven for Dean. He had helped to save the world for Dean. Cas had given up everything, and begun to feel true, human, emotion because of Dean. He remembered Cas trying to explain that even his betrayal was for Dean. He said that it was to protect 'Free Will,' and 'humanity,' things that Dean had taught him to care about. It was true that these were the things that Dean had taught Castiel were worth fighting for.

When he had first met Cas, the angel had been strong, and brave, and…Emotionless. He had been the perfect soldier. This was something that Dean was able to relate to. He remembered Sammy's words when the spirits in the insane asylum all of those years ago had possessed him: 'Daddy's blunt little instrument.' It was true. Dean had spent his entire life suppressing his own thoughts and ideas as he mindlessly obeyed his father's orders. So, he felt oddly reminded of himself when he watched Castiel struggle to remain loyal to a father who gave no explanation for his orders.

It was Dean who had taught Cas to care about free will, and the human race. There was no doubt in Dean's mind that his friend had been telling the truth when he said that his actions were for Dean. It seemed that every decision Castiel had ever made of his own free will had been for Dean.

None of this made it right, though. It didn't mean that he could take away the pain that it had caused him to know that one of the few people in the world who he truly trusted had been lying to him, and even spying on him.

He was hurt, of course. He honestly couldn't imagine being more hurt by anyone other than Sam or Bobby. Cas was the only person outside of his little family who Dean had actually let into his heart. And Cas had betrayed him. Dean had believed in him, stood by him. He had even chewed Sam and Bobby out for doubting the former member of 'Team Free Will.'

Dean knew that Castiel could see his soul. He knew that this meant that the angel must have seen the agony it put him in when the man he had trusted with his heart, life, and soul had threatened Sammy. His whole life was focused on protecting his little brother. That one job, watch out for Sammy…And he had put all of his faith into someone who had ended up hurting Sam. Of course, recent events changed things.

Castiel had taken Sam's insanity into himself…Dean wasn't sure exactly what this meant. Meg hadn't really been very elaborative over the phone. She only said that he was a bit different now. Dean wondered if the angel was feeling all of the wounds that Sam's soul had inflicted from being in the cage with Michael and Lucifer. Or maybe he was even seeing Lucifer, like Sam had. Even though he was still unsure how he felt about Cas, Dean found himself wanting to get there faster. He pushed down on the gas pedal a bit harder.

Dean wasn't sure if Sam and Charlie had a point about him being bi or not. He didn't really think so. He didn't usually look at guys…He definitely liked girls. This thought made him space out for a moment as he reminisced about some of his favorite ventures with grateful hot chicks whose life he had saved. He didn't normally look at guys in that way. He supposed there were a couple of exceptions. Dr. Sexy MD from his favorite television show came to mind…Everyone had those celebrity exceptions, though. It was perfectly normal.

'What about when Zachariah zapped time forwards? Was what happened with future Cas 'totally normal'?' a nagging voice in Dean's head asked. He felt uncomfortable thinking about that experience with Sam in the passenger seat. He tried to avoid thinking about it at all, honestly…and failed miserably most of the time. Ugh. He remembered all too well the bloody future that Zachariah had painted for him, with the Croatoan virus running rampant, and Lucifer possessing Sam. He also remembered meeting up with a future version of Cas who was stoned out of his mind, and having a… 'party'….Did it really mean anything if Dean had joined Cas in the… 'partying?' Even if he had… 'partied'…with Cas…a little…or a lot….Surely it didn't mean anything, after all, it was a… 'party.' And there had been girls there, too…Really hot girls…So if a few things that didn't necessarily involve the girls might have happened, was Dean really to blame? He told himself that he couldn't be held accountable for anything that happened at that party.

Cas, the real Cas, had been shocked when Dean explained to him the events that took place in the possible future. He had agreed never to become the hopeless loser version of himself that he was in the future. Dean tried not to think about how the version of Cas that had come in the real future was so much worse…Instead he thought about one of the many times when Castiel had been certain it was his last night alive.

The poor angel, who never seemed to catch a break from being in danger of combustion, had thought at the time, that he was going to be exploded by Raphael the next day…That night was…an exception to the rule…Dean told himself. After all, there were two things Dean knew for certain: Bert and Ernie were gay, and he was not going to let Castiel die a virgin. He had promised his friend that he would not allow him such a cruel fate. He remembered how a part of him had been secretly excited when Chastity, the hooker, came out of the room yelling and crying.

That was a happier time. Even with the apocalypse looming, the two of them had managed to enjoy that one, special, night. They had laughed, and talked, and drank, and…Dean had put his arm casually around Cas, as they walked to the car, and…Well, Dean had made a promise, and he had kept it.

He and Cas never really talked about that night, though they sometimes referenced it subtly. The nice thing was, it was never awkward, or, well…It was never more awkward than things usually were with Castiel. After all, 'his people skills were rusty.'

Maybe they weren't too awkward about it, but perhaps they weren't as subtle as Dean had previously thought they were. After all, it wasn't like this was the first time anyone had ever doubted the platonic nature of their, 'profound bond.' Actually, it seemed like the ambiguous, and often not so ambiguous, non-platonic aspects to their 'bond,' were often referenced plainly by people, angels, and demons who crossed paths with them. This just happened to be the first time anyone had really questioned him about it. Dean thought back to something that stoner Cas from the future had said: 'I thought you were done trying to put labels on me?' He wished Sam wouldn't try to put a label on him. After all, things were going to be difficult enough facing Castiel, and deciding how he felt about the trench coat wearing angel without trying to sort out what their relationship had been in the past.

He couldn't deny that it went beyond friendship. Even if it weren't for the couple of times when things had gone too far, Dean wouldn't be able to deny to himself that they were more than friends. Their relationship had always gone beyond that. It was hard to say that the bond between an angel and the righteous man whom he had pulled from Hell was something as simple as friendship. Even if it wasn't romance, they loved each other, or they had once. They had a profound bond that most people could never even dream of having with anyone. Of course, there had always been some kind of tangible tension between them which was impossible to completely ignore. When they were talking, or even just sitting or standing in silence, often their lips almost touched. They regularly made each other offers through clever innuendos in conversation.

Of course, thinking about his savior, Dean couldn't avoid thinking about the best and worst of it all, hard as he tried. Hell…He narrowed his eyes, careful not to let his emotion show. Sam didn't need to know what his big brother was thinking about. He had been so strung out and broken when Castiel gripped him tight and raised him from perdition. His soul had been torn apart time and time again. He was nothing but the burnt and broken shell of a man, on his way to becoming the kind of abomination that waited at the hospital with Castiel now.

Being raised from Hell was an experience which Dean could never really explain. He couldn't put into words how the purity surrounding him had felt as he soared away from the blood, and torture which he had spent the past forty years engulfed by. He could never forget the feeling of goodness that emanated from the being pulling him from Hell, and more than anything, he remembered the relief that he could still feel anything so benign.

Then, of course he had found the handprint burned onto his shoulder. Although time had mostly healed the mark, Dean could still see a vague impression where it had once been. It was only the visible sign of what had happened between them, though. There was also the impression Castiel had left on Dean's soul. It was an intangible connection forged between the angel and the soul he had fought to save. Dean could feel it inside when Castiel was near, or when the two of them were close, not just physically, but emotionally. Maybe that profound bond forged into his soul was the reason why the night he'd kept his promise to Castiel when they were plotting against Raphael together had been one of the best nights of his life.

He didn't want Sam to know everything, but part of him needed someone to talk to. He was so conflicted about seeing Cas again, he wasn't sure how he would handle it. And it didn't help at all that Meg was the one watching over the angel. It was Meg who had stayed with him at the hospital. It was Meg who he had chosen to show the things he'd learned from the pizza man. Perhaps it was always going to be Meg….Because she didn't resent Cas. Because she stood by the angel even though it went against everything the stupid hellbitch was.

"Do you think Castiel loves Meg?" he asked with some hesitation. Sam raised his eyebrows cynically from the passenger seat. Dean had meant to ask something that wouldn't imply anything about himself, but only the dynamic of 'Team Free Will.'

"I don't know…Why?" Sam asked.

"I guess…I don't know, it's just…She doesn't deserve him."

"What? I thought you were kind of…I thought you didn't think he was worth much lately?" Sam asked.

"I know…After everything he did…After what he did to you…I wish I could stop caring, but I can't help it, I just don't like the idea of him with that skank."

"Why not? She's on our side now, remember?" Sam said. He and Meg had actually grown…not close, but…He imagined that he was the closest thing someone like her could have to a friend. He didn't want to risk pissing Dean off by bringing up the fact that she was currently risking going back to Hell by watching over Castiel when Dean had simply left the fallen angel behind at the hospital.

Sam sighed as Dean rolled his eyes, and went back to staring blankly ahead at the road. Sam tried not to smile as he thought of the secrets Dean thought he was keeping. Like the true nature of Dean and Castiel's "profound bond." He had the advantage of getting along with Dean, Cas, and even Meg, so he had an inside perspective on the situation. He had watched the crazy love triangle play out over the past year or so, wondering when Dean would start talking about it without the thinly veiled innuendos about Cas, and lame insults directed at Meg. He had a feeling that the shit was about to hit the fan when Dean, Meg, and Cas were all face to face at the hospital. He could only hope that they would also be able to stay on track. After all, the stone with the mysterious writing was clearly important. Hopefully it wouldn't be damaged during Meg and Dean's debate over who loved Castiel the most ;)


End file.
